


Pretty In Ink

by Tazii



Series: Nuts & Volts Week [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: First Dates, M/M, Nuts & Volts Week, Sexual Humor, Tattoos, implied minor character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22662658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tazii/pseuds/Tazii
Summary: “Not much longer. Be patient. It’ll be worth it in the end.”Tyrian’s hum shifted into a full chuckle, voice dipped to a barely-there whisper as Tyrian’s tail hooked around Arthur’s neck and pulled him closer.“Justwhoare you trying to placate, doctor?”--As two recognisable faces in a city they want to remain unseen in, date options are incredibly limited. Which is how Arthur found himself in a seedy tattoo parlour holding a very twitchy Tyrian.
Relationships: Tyrian Callows/Arthur Watts
Series: Nuts & Volts Week [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627864
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23
Collections: Nuts and Volts Week 2020





	Pretty In Ink

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of [Nuts & Volts Week](https://nutsandvoltsweek.tumblr.com/)  
> First Date
> 
> If you're interested in the ship or just want to support some amazing work, please check the blog out and give everyone some love.
> 
> Thank you once again to Scrumpy for beta'ing and wading through all the unnecessary commas i throw into these things for no real good reason  
> And those running this amazing event, and everyone else participating in feeding the ship!
> 
> Please enjoy!!

Arthur supposed he should have been jealous. After all it wasn’t exactly flattering to be dragged out for a night on the town only to have his partner permanently mark his body with the emblem of another. Especially _there_ of all places.

Technically the mark couldn’t exactly count as a _’tramp stamp’_ as it was so elegantly called. That specific stretch of skin was already occupied by the base of Tyrian’s currently overactive tail. The plates climbing up a few inches up his back, along with the technology Arthur had worked so painstakingly on, had already staked its claim on _that_.

It had healed nicely, metal pins lodged deep into the curve of his spine to connect breathtaking machinery with Tyrian’s natural motor function. It was equipment Arthur spent weeks perfecting, far too good for some lowly tattooist to touch.

Like any decent professional the man wore latex gloves as he worked, but that didn’t stop Arthur from scowling everytime the stranger grabbed the base of Tyrian’s tail to hold it out of place. 

Arthur could deal with playing second fiddle to her grace. It was inevitable and Arthur could accept Tyrian’s obsession with his so-called _’Goddess’_. There was no point in getting jealous of his short-time lover marking his skin in her honour, though admittedly he _would_ much prefer something a little more… _him_. 

Which was ridiculous, of course! After months of romps underneath the proverbial sheets they’d only _just_ found time to explore their rather physical relationship on a more tame level. A trip to some seedy tattoo parlour wasn’t exactly what Arthur would have chosen but neither of them could afford to be recognised somewhere more… _Arthur’s speed_. Besides, Arthur doubted Tyrian would make a very good table mate in some lavish restaurant.

But sitting idly while another man touched up his lover was not what Arthur had expected from all of this. His job was simply to sit by Tyrian’s side and hold the man’s tail in his lap, keeping it perfectly still so it didn’t thrash and prick anyone while Tyrian struggled not to burst into fits of laughter.

It wasn’t pleasant and Arthur must have been completely transparent about it, because Tyrian kept twisting his head to face Arthur with a quirk in his brow and a twitch to his lips. 

“Oh, doctor~,” Tyrian purred and Arthur reluctantly withdrew his attention from the young man getting _far_ too personal with Tyrian’s tail to focus on his partner instead. “If it bothers you _so much_ next time I’ll get your initials too.”

From the creeping laughter that followed Arthur was sure Tyrian knew _exactly_ what was bothering Arthur, and it certainly wasn’t his choices in ink.

The artist grunted at the shake in Tyrian’s body as he continued to laugh before the other pushed his hand harder against the centre of Tyrian’s back and told him to sit still for the hundredth time that night.

He was doing his job, Arthur knew that, but that didn’t stop the protective aggression building in his chest. His scowl went unnoticed by the tattooist but Tyrian was too observant for his own good.

The stinger of Tyrian’s tail curled against his hand, the smooth rounded surface fitting nicely in Arthur’s palm, and Arthur returned his attention to the one much more deserving. 

Tyrian could tease all he wanted but it was painfully obvious he was just as uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Not the tattooing itself, _no_ , Tyrian was fine with pain. It was the touch that riled him up. Everytime unfamiliar fingers traced over his spine and pinned him down as he was forced to keep his aura down so the needle could make contact with his skin. 

He was never good with unwanted touch. The number of people allowed to put their hands on him in such an intimate manner could be counted on one hand and this gentleman certainly wasn’t in the numbers. 

Holding Tyrian’s tail gave Arthur a direct line to his lover’s frame of mind. The pain made it twitch and flinch of course, but every press to his lower back or grip around the base of his tail had Tyrian jerking in his hold, that pretty blissful smile flicking like a switch to a snarl. 

Perhaps it was awful of him to take pleasure in Tyrian’s discomfort but it certainly made Arthur feel better. Even if he was tempted to draw his gun and do Tyrian’s job for him with every hiss from the faunus’ lips.

“So I’ll take it you’re together then?” The artist idly offered, slipping to polite _’small talk’_ in what Arthur assumed was his way of distracting Tyrian from the pain. As if _that_ was what was making Tyrian tense under the needle. 

“Of course,” Arthur answered as the same beat of Tyrian’s purred: _”Happily~”_

Arthur’s thumb stroked along the underside of Tyrian’s tail just under the divide of exoskeleton and metal and the thrashing calmed to a slight twitch. Tyrian hummed under the touch, yellow eyes drooping heavily before his arms went limp either side of the bench he laid on. 

“How long have you been dating?” the stranger pried and the fondness in Arthur’s face gave way to annoyance.

“This is our first!” Tyrian chirped as his body wiggled excitedly, tail twisting in Arthur’s grasp with a need to wag.

The artist pushed down on Tyrian’s back once more to force him still and Tyrian’s eyes flashed purple, fingers twitching and itching to lash out. 

“We’ve been together _far_ longer than that,” Arthur reminded, personally insulted that the months of being together apparently didn’t count towards something as simple as _’dating’_.

“You call this a ‘date’?” the artist scoffed.

For the first time that evening the young gentleman must have finally registered the furious scowl on Arthur’s face, because he quickly avoided his eyes with a sheepish cough.

Tyrian’s tail curled into Arthur’s hands, the edge of his stinger skimming over tense fingers, and Arthur noted the way Tyrian’s eyes flitted between the two. 

“Now _doctor_ , if you’re feeling a little left out, you could always get a scorpion on that _petite_ ass of yours. After all, it already belongs to _me_.”

Arthur’s thumb moved up to the joint attaching the prosthetic and pushed down _hard_ , instantly satisfied with the way Tyrian gasped and kicked a foot out in response, knocking Arthur’s leg as the tattooist jerked away at the movement.

“Certainly _not_ ,” Arthur drawled, covering his moment of cruelty by smoothing his hand over Tyrian’s twitching tail. 

“Matching tattoos would make a great date reminder,” the artist interjected, and Arthur’s shoulders tensed. 

“Yes, _thank you_ for your very unwanted and rather biased opinion,” Arthur snapped, levelling the man with a glower. “I wonder how many thoughtless love-struck twits you’ve pulled in from the streets selling them the idea of a permanent romantic reminder for their most likely _shortly lived_ flings.”

The constant buzz of a tattooing gun was cut short and Arthur heard a low chuckle between them as the worker met Arthur’s frown with his own.

The man opened his mouth to argue and Arthur’s hand inched to his weapon just _itching_ to retaliate before the imbecile had the chance to rebuttal. 

The mechanics of Tyrian’s tail groaned and stretched, reaching up to nudge Arthur’s cheek with the rounded edge of the tip and Arthur brushed it away with a huff.

Tyrian cooed, voice mockingly sympathetic, and Arthur moved his hand from his gun in favour of taking his lover’s tail once again. Tyrian raised a hand and reached out too, just close enough to graze his fingers along Arthur’s knee. 

“There’s no _need_ for all this aggression! After all, aren’t we all _friends_ here?” The word was dragged out and hissed, a subtle threat promised with a flash of those pretty purple eyes.

Arthur sat back, idly toying with Tyrian’s tail between his hands as he turned his attention back to the interloper. 

“Forgive me. I don’t know what could have possibly come over me,” Arthur offered with a slow roll of his eyes. 

It was painfully obvious the young man didn’t believe the weak apology but the buzzing returned all the same. He returned to his work, inking Tyrian’s spine in a purpled-black while the faunus flicked his fingers to his partner, egging him to come closer with clicks of his tongue.

Shooting one last frown at the worker, Arthur slipped from his seat. He stole the pillow he’d been using to place on the floor before kneeling on it beside Tyrian’s head. Even for Tyrian he _refused_ to place his knees on this filthy floor.

Tyrian’s tail curved with his movement, half coiled around Arthur’s wrist.

“My _poor doctor_. Your jealousy really brings out the green in your eyes.”

“If we’re to discuss eyes giving us away you are one to talk.”

Tyrian’s chuckle was low, barely a whisper as he breathed his response between them.

“For once I don't think I’m the most inclined to act on _natural impulses_ in the room.”

The accusation made Arthur’s lip lift with a unimpressed sneer, eyes briefly flashing up before Tyrian’s tail traced along his cheek once more. 

“Then perhaps you’re rubbing off on me more than I’d like.”

Tyrian’s chuckle quickly devolved into a snarl, eyes squeezed tight as he slammed his fist into the underside of the table. The stinger twitched back, tail tense in Arthur’s hands as the damned artist got far too personal with his work once more.

He must have confused Tyrian’s frustration with pain because he only pushed down harder, forcing Tyrian down as he tried to reassure him: _“almost done.”_

Arthur shot a quick side-eye to the man before he took Tyrian’s hand in his, raising it up until his knuckles brushed along Tyrian’s cheek. The action soothed the tail in his grip as Tyrian’s eyes rolled back, a hum forming in his throat as he lent into Arthur’s touch.

“Not much longer. Be patient. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

Tyrian’s hum shifted into a full chuckle, voice dipped to a barely-there whisper as Tyrian’s tail hooked around Arthur’s neck and pulled him closer. 

“Just _who_ are you trying to placate, doctor?”

Arthur wasn’t given a moment to defend himself. Not that he’d choose to do so over Tyrian’s needy kiss. Tugged in, Arthur followed without an ounce of resistance, their fingers still locked against Tyrian’s cheek as lips met. 

With Tyrian laying down, the angle was awkward and chaotic, but when were they ever simple? Tyrian was all teeth and tongue, uncoordinated and messy with his affections. His stinger pressed too close to Arthur’s throat as Tyrian’s hand pulled away from Arthur’s to grab at his shirt instead, demanding and suffocating. 

He had no intention of ever improving nor slowing down, while Arthur long learnt that the nip of Tyrian’s teeth wasn’t an all too _horrible_ sensation. Arthur could tell when the worker touched somewhere a little too _intimate_ by how hard he bit down and the deep growl at the back of his throat. 

His hand rested on the side of Tyrian’s jaw, thumb grazing along Tyrian’s earlobe and jostled his earring as his free hand landed on the floor, bracing him in order for Arthur to tilt his head and connect the kiss in kind.

Tyrian’s tail fell limp along Arthur’s shoulders at the same moment he heard the buzz of the gun stop, followed by an uncomfortable declaration of- “All finished.”

Arthur pulled away from the kiss as Tyrian went slack, silent laughter wracking his frame as Arthur slowly stood up.

The tail slid free of Arthur’s shoulder and laid limp on the floor as Tyrian blinked beadily, slowly wiggling on the table in his contentment. 

For a moment Arthur admired the mark left on Tyrian’s skin. Considering how incredibly difficult it was to make Tyrian sit still, it was well done. A nice pearly black that was sure to fade as it healed. Now though Salem’s eye looked rather appealing on the dip of Tyrian’s spine, hovering just above Arthur’s marvellous work.

As the worker began to bandage the art Arthur’s hand moved towards his hip.

“One last thing, if I may?”

\---

Tyrian skipped through the parlour's front doors first, flipping the store’s open sign to ‘closed’ on his way. Arthur followed with a long confident stride, gun slipped back in place in perfect order. The store lights were off as Tyrian saddled up to Arthur’s side, nudging himself under Arthur’s arm as they walked merrily together.

Tyrian’s tail was unfortunately wrapped around his hips and hidden from sight, but Arthur could still feel the metal and plate pressed to his side.

“Riveting night, doctor, wouldn’t you say?” Tyrian taunted, voice giddy and high with euphoria.

Arthur grunted in turn, collar pulled up as they filed through the slush of Mantle’s poorer roads.

“Hardly what I’d call an ideal time. A flight away from the charm of Atlas’ nightlife and we squander it in some no-name back alley parlour.”

Tyrian’s laughter was erratic and chipper and Arthur had to nudge him down a quiet alley to tear attention away from his too loud datemate. 

“It has its own charm~,” Tyrian purred as he rested a hand against Arthur’s chest, tapping out an excited rhythm. 

“Personally I believe any apparent _’charm’_ this city had left along with you.”

“Oooh-ho-ho! I do _try_ ,” Tyrian hissed with a wicked whisper, and Arthur took delight in the way Tyrian’s nails bit into his sternum. “I find you rather _charming_ yourself!”

Tyrian punctuated his point with a sudden slap against Arthur’s ass and the doctor jolted and hissed in pain. The filthy glare he shot Tyrian wasn’t enough to kill the abrupt laughter on his lips, nor the sharp sting beneath the hidden bandage and ink Tyrian struck.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, if Arthur didn't kill him Tyrian would have. As if anyone else gets to see the doctor ass and lives to tell the tale.
> 
> If you'd like to catch me elsewhere, you can find me on: [Tumblr](https://taziidcvil.tumblr.com/)


End file.
